


Scream to the Sky

by AnaMikala



Series: Scream to the Sky [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime, Transformers: Shattered Glass
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Character Death, Cortical Psychic Patch, Fire, Flashbacks, Genocide, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Inspirational Speeches, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Other, Seeker Trines, Starting Over, Suicidal Thoughts, Survivor Guilt, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnaMikala/pseuds/AnaMikala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shattered Glass AU. Vos has been destroyed, and Starscream retreats into his processor, shutting himself off from the world in an attempt to escape the indescribable pain. Megatron enters his processor in an attempt to retrieve him, not prepared for the memories he sees of the worst day of Starscream's life. Long oneshot, tearjerker, contains slash (MegaStar) and character death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scream to the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> My second Transformers fic. Like my first, this is a Shattered Glass AU, meaning Autobots are evil and Decepticons are good, and they possess embers instead of sparks. This story can be read as either being on the same timeline as my story “Emberglow,” or as a stand-alone story. Since I’m currently obsessed with Transformers Prime, its characters are the ones I’m imagining as I write this, but you could probably imagine it in any Transformers continuity if you want, some Prime-based details notwithstanding.
> 
> Like with “Emberglow,” this story contains MegaStar. Those of you who dislike that pairing, or slash in general, should probably hit the back button now.
> 
> Note: As the names for units of time seem to have no set definitions, and vary among fanworks, here are the terms as I use them: nanoklick = one-tenth of a second; klick = second; breem = minute; joor = hour; (solar) cycle = day; groon = approximately one fortnight (two weeks); orn (or lunar cycle) = month; orbital cycle = year; decacycle = decade; megacycle = century; vorn = millennium.
> 
> I own nothing. Hasbro does.

The battle was over before it had even begun.

Vos, the Jewel of Cybertron, the City of Seekers, was burning. Fires raged throughout of the city, its famous towers and dizzyingly tall spires blackened and broken. Bodies, both dead and dying, littered the wreckage, neither mech nor femme nor emberling spared the slaughter.

The Autobots had attacked the city from within. With painstaking care and stealth, one by one over several orns, explosives and incendiary devices had been planted throughout the city by Optimus Prime’s most skilled spies and infiltrators. Important landmarks were favored targets, as were administrative buildings, cultural centers, and popular gathering places. Every one of the bombs were synched with the same remote detonator deep in Autobot territory half a world away.

The simultaneous explosions were the signal to attack.

The Autobots’ intent was not conquest, but merely destruction and murder. They swept through, razing what hadn’t been destroyed by the explosives, the city’s inhabitants too stunned and disoriented to offer much resistance. Vos’s legendary air squadrons made a valiant, desperate effort to fight back, but the attack was too sudden and overwhelming for them to turn aside. It wasn’t long before evacuation, _survival_ became the only goal of those still alive, and even that was quickly rendered all but impossible.

The flames would soon consume what little of the city remained.

Megatron flew overhead, the city below him unrecognizable in the inferno. He pushed himself hard, his engines whining with the strain, only one thing on his processor. He had to find Starscream.

The Decepticons, recently allied with the seekers, had been unable to come to Vos’s aid in time. By the time word of the attack had reached Decepticon headquarters in Kaon, even as close as the two cities were, it was already too late. Megatron had ordered his army to Vos’s defense, but when they got there, most of the city had already gone up in flames. The Autobots were in the process of vacating the area, their job already done. There was little the Decepticons could do at that point other than search for survivors, and they were finding precious few who weren’t past the point of saving.

Megatron’s ember had frozen in its chamber when the enormity of the situation hit him. Starscream had been in Vos at the time of the attack. He was the first-born offspring of the Winglord of Vos, and as such was an important presence in the city’s politics. Increasingly frequent sightings of Autobots on the city’s outskirts had been making many members of Vos’s parliament—not to mention its populous—uneasy, and Starscream had been called home to take part in the debates over what to do about it. He was heir to his carrier, the Winglord Hurricane, and she had thought it prudent to have him present as they made a decision about how to address the apparent threat. Starscream, upon hearing of enemy bots skulking on the fringes of his beloved city for no discernable reason, had hurried home without hesitation.

Just a few cycles later, Vos exploded.

Megatron had handed command over to Soundwave, then had taken off on his own to search for Starscream. He realized too late that he had brought nothing with him that could help him pinpoint his lovemate’s signal, and though their recent ember-merging gave him a tentative connection to his lover, it was not enough to lead him to the other mech across much distance. It was nothing like the link between bondmates.

Bondmates…Megatron had lately realized that he wanted to bond with Starscream; his love for the seeker was just that profound. Now he could very well have lost him.

No. No, he had to be functioning still. He couldn’t have been offlined. He would feel it in his ember if Starscream perished…wouldn’t he?

He didn’t know.

“ _Starscream!_ ” Megatron bellowed, with both his vocalizer and his internal comm unit. He could barely hear himself over the roar of the flames and the howl of the wind, so it came to a surprise to him when, several anxious breems later, he heard a sound come from the ruins below. It was faint to his audials, and he almost missed it, but it seized hold of his ember with near-shocking force. A wail of utter despair floated up from the wreckage of a once magnificent building, and he knew without a doubt that it was his Starscream.

Megatron dropped down in a steep dive, transforming as he neared the ground and landing in a cloud of ash and dust. Heedless of the danger, he charged into the burning building, knocking ruined masonry aside with his momentum. He cried Starscream’s designation, desperate to lay optics on his lovemate.

When he did, he skidded to a halt, optics wide as he took in the sight before him.

Starscream was on his knees on the ground, backplates toward Megatron. He was clutching a body to him, rocking back and forth as he curled over it. The corpse of a massive Autobot lay nearby, but the Decepticon commander barely gave it any notice. As soon as he could get himself to move, he hurried over to Starscream, relief and worry filling his ember to near bursting. He dropped to his knees next to the seeker, freezing again when he saw whose body Starscream was holding.

It was Skywarp. Starscream’s trinemate lay motionless in his arms, optics dark. His frame was streaked with dirt, ash, and entirely too much energon. His faceplates were wet, tears dripping from Starscream’s optics and running down Skywarp’s faceplates as if he himself had cried them. His once vibrantly-colored chassis was slowly fading to the dull gray of death.

Starscream didn’t appear to notice Megatron’s presence, his own chassis trembling violently as he mourned his trinemate’s death. His optics were wide and unseeing, the optics of a mech in deep shock. His lip plates were moving rapidly, though Megatron couldn’t hear what he was saying, the roar of the flames obliterating his words. He appeared to be unaware that he was even speaking.

Megatron shook himself out of his stunned silence, reaching out and placing a servo on Starscream’s shoulder.

“Starscream!” he hollered, having to yell to be heard over the inferno. When his lovemate didn’t respond, he grabbed the seeker’s other shoulder and shook him. “ _Starscream!_ ”

Still no response. Starscream merely tightened his hold on Skywarp, as if afraid of losing him further.

Desperate, Megatron took Starscream’s faceplates between his servos and forced their optics to meet. “Starscream, look at me,” he pleaded, praying to Primus that his words were heard.

Awareness slowly dawned in Starscream’s optics, and after a moment he cycled a shaky gasp. “Megatron…”

Now that he had Starscream’s attention, Megatron’s words failed him. What could he say in this situation? He could only stare into his lovemate’s tear-filled optics. When he was finally able to speak, the question that spilled from his lip-plates left him more than a little puzzled.

“Where’s Thundercracker?”

 _Why_ that was the first thing he asked was beyond his ability to explain. It was as if his processer was so lost for what to say that it made him blurt out the first random question it came to.

Starscream’s faceplates crumpled, his optics squeezing shut. He convulsed as if dealt a fatal blow, a howl of agony tearing free of his vocalizer.

Megatron recoiled, shocked by Starscream’s reaction, audials ringing with the cry. He stared at the sobbing, shaking seeker, horror settling in his ember. Thundercracker…was he also…?

Without really knowing why, he turned and scrutinized the dead Autobot nearby. Its chassis was almost entirely gray, but that wasn’t what drew Megatron’s attention. A seeker’s body was also lying there, almost hidden in the shadow of the much larger Autobot. Its chestplates had been torn open, the ember chamber inside crushed. There was no surviving such a brutal assault.

It was Thundercracker. Both of Starscream’s trinemates lay dead, their chassis graying with horrible finality. The core of seeker society, the trine, was a sacred covenant between three individuals, the bond between trinemates second in importance only to that of bondmates. Starscream’s trine had been shattered, Skywarp and Thundercracker ripped away from him, no doubt, by the Autobot lying dead nearby. Had Starscream killed the Autobot in his grief? That seemed to be the case, as Starscream lived while the Autobot didn’t. The violent breaking of the trinebond may have driven the winglord heir to utter madness.

“No…” Megatron whispered when he realized what he was seeing. He turned back to his lovemate. “Starscream…”

A sudden, loud bang made him jump, followed immediately by a low, creaking groan. Cold dread seized his ember, and he looked up at what remained of the building’s central pillar. The massive structure had cracked in the intense heat of the flames, and was slowly leaning over. In their direction, of course.

“Starscream!” Megatron cried. “We have to move!”

Starscream looked up at the pillar, his anguished expression suddenly smoothing into one of unshakeable calm. With one servo he held Skywarp to him, reaching up with the other toward the looming cylinder of rock as it began to disintegrate, the entire pillar collapsing toward them with slow, terrible promise. He closed his optics in resignation, looking almost _happy_ to be mere klicks away from death.

“ _No!_ ” Megatron bellowed. “ _STARSCREAM!_ ” He threw himself at the seeker, grabbing the smaller mech up off the ground. With no time to think, he lunged to the side, taking them, he hoped, out of the pillar’s path. He collided with the remains of a wall, the blackened stone crumbling readily as he barreled his way through.

The impact was deafening, the ground shaking violently under Megatron’s pedes. The resulting shockwave slammed into his backplates with unforgiving force, throwing him forward like he weighed nothing. He hit another wall, this one much more solid than the first, his unintentional flight coming to a sudden, strut-jarring halt.

For a moment, he lay still, stunned by the collision. When he was able to shake off the paralysis, he groaned in pain, then coughed. His vents were clogged with the ash and dust billowing around him, and it was difficult to cycle air. He held an arm in front of his face, shielding his optics from the stinging grit.

“Starscream…” he rasped, looking down at the mech in his arms. “Starscream?!”

His lovemate lay limply against him, optics dark. Fear lanced through Megatron’s ember, but on closer inspection, he found that Starscream was merely unconscious, not dead. Skywarp was nowhere to be found, he and Thundercracker now buried in the newly-fallen ruins. Megatron’s relief to see Starscream still functioning was short-lived, as he became aware again of the sea of flames roaring around them.

He had to get Starscream out of there. He activated his comm unit.

“Soundwave, lock onto my coordinates. I need a ground bridge.”

* * *

“Starscream! Where is he?!”

The Decepticons’ chief medic, designation Hook, looked up from his datapad at the sound of his commander’s voice. Turning around to face the berth, he saw that Megatron had regained consciousness. Stasis had been induced as Knock Out, Hook’s young—but extremely bright—apprentice, had opened up Megatron’s chassis to clear his vents of dust, and give him a system-wide examination. Not only would Megatron have been extremely uncomfortable if kept awake, but if there were any surgical repairs needed, his already being unconscious would expedite the procedure.

Hook himself had tended to Vos’s unresponsive prince.

“Calm yourself, commander,” Hook said, setting the datapad down and turning to face Megatron fully. “He’s in the next room. I’ve just come from examining him, in fact.”

Megatron pushed up into a sitting position, ignoring the wobbliness left over from stasis. He fixed Hook with an intense stare, ignoring Knock Out’s presence. “Is he okay? Is anything wrong with him?”

“Nothing aside from minor scrapes and abrasions,” Hook replied. Then a look of puzzled concern settled on his faceplates. “And, well…he won’t wake up.”

Megatron’s brow ridges arched downward. He didn’t like that. “What do you mean?”

“As I said, his only physical injuries are minor,” Hook explained, “nothing that would make him fall unconscious. I examined each of his systems thoroughly, and can’t find anything obviously responsible. His processor is undamaged, and there are no corruptions in his code. I can only deduce that he has fallen into stasis because of mental or emotional shock. Witnessing the destruction of his home would certainly be enough to cause such a loss of consciousness.”

Megatron swung his pedes over the side of the berth, making to stand. “He didn’t just witness the destruction of Vos,” he said, his voice low. “His trinemates were murdered right in front of him.”

Nearby, Knock Out gasped quietly. It was a well-known fact about seekers that the trine was sacred, and the death of a trinemate, to say nothing of both, was a terrible trauma to even the most stalwart of seekers. To have both of them violently ripped away at the same time would be immeasurable agony for the surviving individual.

It was not terribly uncommon for a seeker to not last long after such a trauma, offlining in their grief. Some purposely ended their own lives; some simply gave up, their desire for death so strong that their systems just stopped.

“I see,” Hook said slowly, mulling over Megatron’s words.

The commander stood, taking a moment to make sure his legs would hold. He felt a lingering wooziness from the stasis he had just emerged from, but he made himself ignore it. He had to see Starscream.

“A pillar began to collapse toward us,” he said as he headed for the door. “It would have killed us to stay where we were. Starscream realized what was happening, and…he looked almost _relieved_.” Stopping in the doorway, he lowered his helm. “He wanted to die in that moment. Was…was I wrong to save him? I _couldn’t_ let him die, I love him too much for that…but was it the wrong thing to do?”

“Only Starscream can answer that,” Hook said carefully. “He may turn to you for comfort, or he may resent you for keeping him alive. There is no way to tell for sure until he wakes up.”

“ _If_ he wakes up,” Megatron muttered, exiting the exam room. He was terrified that Starscream would hate him for cheating him of his longed-for death, but he just couldn’t stay away. He _needed_ to see his lovemate.

As Hook had said, Starscream lay on the berth in the next room, motionless. His optics were closed, and his vents were cycling slowly and shallowly, the same rhythm as when he was recharging. Indeed, he appeared to be doing just that, no sign of injury or illness immediately obvious. The minor wounds Hook had mentioned had been repaired, the weld marks buffed cleanly away. Tubes and wires connected him to a computer terminal next to the berth, readouts of his vital signs on the main display.

Though Megatron had only rudimentary medical knowledge, even he could see there was nothing alarming in the readouts. Emberspin, vent cycling, processor activity, energon usage, all were within normal parameters. His fuel tanks were just under half full, so it wasn’t for lack of energon that he entered stasis. The display was no different than if it were hooked up to any recharging mech.

Starscream wasn’t just recharging, however. Hook had said that he would _not_ wake up, which said to Megatron that the medic had attempted to rouse the seeker and had been unsuccessful. Starscream had apparently retreated from the waking world on purpose, taking refuge in his own processor in an attempt to escape the pain of losing his trine and his home.

Megatron felt his ember squeeze painfully as he gazed upon the still form of his beloved. Stepping up to the berth, he took Starscream’s servo in his own, holding it gently. He leaned over his lovemate, his other servo reaching up to stroke Starscream’s cheekplates as he stared into the shuttered optics. He lowered his faceplates to the other mech’s, brushing their lip-plates together reverently. His optics stung, ocular lubricant beginning to pool in the corners.

“Come back to me, my love,” he whispered, his voice breaking, tears finally spilling down his cheekplates. “I am so very sorry…”

* * *

Five cycles. It had been five solar cycles since Vos was destroyed, and Starscream still hadn’t woken up.

Search parties had been sent out from Kaon to find seekers who had fled Vos and extend to them Megatron’s invitation to take refuge in the Decepticon capital. Camps of temporary shelters had been prepared, mostly on Kaon’s outskirts, and all supplies that could be spared were offered to help succor the displaced. The search-and-rescue teams met no resistance, and all seekers they were able to find gratefully accepted the aid.

It wasn’t long before news of Starscream’s condition spread throughout the camps. Hurricane had been killed trying to defend her city, making Starscream the new winglord. The refugees pleaded with their Decepticon hosts to save him, deliver him back to them safe and sound. Starscream was the only survivor of his family unit; if he offlined, the seekers would be not only homeless, but leaderless.

Megatron cycled a sigh as he looked over a datapad of statistics Soundwave had compiled for him. He supposed there were still some unaccounted for, but by the looks of things, the seekers had been reduced from a population of almost a million down to just a few thousand. Less than one percent of their number still functioned. Starscream was lord of an endangered species.

The Decepticon commander was seated next to Starscream’s berth. He would not leave his lovemate’s side if he could at all help it, and had left this room only a servoful of times in the past five cycles. Though some on the city council had expressed disapproval—emotionless glitches, the lot of them—Megatron had concluded that he could play his part in governing the city just fine from the medical ward. Soundwave was acting as his go-between, relaying business back and forth for him. If Megatron had any doubts concerning Soundwave’s dedication to the cause before now, he certainly didn’t anymore.

He heard the door open, and looked up from the datapad. Hook was entering, as he did several times a day to check on the prone seeker.

“How is he doing?” the chief medic asked, though by his tone he expected nothing different than every other time he had asked it.

Megatron simply shook his helm, resting his gaze on his lovemate’s relaxed faceplates.

Hook made a noncommittal sound, starting his routine of checking Starscream’s system readouts. It would only take a breem or to, and then he would be gone again, as usual advising Megatron to comm him the moment anything changed.

As expected, there was no change in Starscream’s condition.

Before Hook left, he turned to his silent commander, who hadn’t taken his optics off of Starscream’s motionless form. The chief medic laid a servo on Megatron’s broad shoulder, making him look up at Hook with an unreadable expression. No words were exchanged, either out loud or through comm channels, the two mechs simply locking optics. After a moment, Hook withdrew his servo and took his leave, bowing slightly before he exited the room.

Only a few klicks passed before a shrill noise assaulted Megatron’s audials.

The big mech leapt to his feet, chair falling over behind him, shouting in surprise. It took only a klick for him to realize the sound was an alarm coming from the computer terminal beside Starscream’s berth. What Megatron saw on the now-highlighted portion of the screen made him go suddenly cold.

Starscream’s ember, just a moment ago exhibiting a normal spin rate, was now in severe distress. The readout was showing a series of chaotic bursts of activity separated by moments of absolute nothing. The bouts of inactivity were each only a few nanoklicks in duration, but terrifying nonetheless. It looked as if Starscream’s ember was on the verge of sputtering out.

“ _HOOK!_ ” Megatron bellowed, loud enough the entire medical ward likely heard. His cry was unnecessary, however, as Hook had heard the alarm himself, and came barreling back into the room just as Megatron called for him.

The medic went straight for the emergency resuscitation equipment, not even having to think about what he was doing.

As suddenly as it began, it was over. Just as Hook got to Starscream’s side, bound and determined to bring him back from the brink of death, the seeker’s emberspin fell back into its usual rhythm. The alarm stopped sounding, the readout once again slow and steady. Hook froze, his servo on Starscream’s chestplates, just about to override the protocols that kept them closed firmly to all but their owner.

Several klicks ticked by, both Megatron and Hook shocked into silence.

Megatron spoke first. “What just happened?” he demanded, his voice low.

Hook didn’t answer right away. He had straightened up, and was now staring into Starscream’s slack faceplates. Throughout the entire ordeal, Starscream hadn’t even twitched.

“Hook?” Megatron prompted.

“I’ve…seen this before,” the medic said slowly, “but only once.”

“What? Seen _what_?” Megatron was getting impatient.

“Remember how I said that Starscream’s stasis was likely caused by psychological trauma?” Hook began. When Megatron nodded, he continued. “It’s not uncommon for a mech or femme to lose consciousness when dealt a great shock. It’s a defense mechanism, the processor’s attempt to shield itself from further harm. Most regain consciousness after just a short time, however.”

“Go on,” Megatron said when Hook paused.

“It’s extremely rare, but sometimes one will fall into stasis…and never wake up. It’s caused by profound trauma, like the sudden loss of a bondmate, or in Starscream’s case, the loss of his trine. The patient’s despair is so deep that they don’t want to live anymore. After a few cycles, they just…give up.” He looked at Starscream, his optics sad. “I think Starscream is trying to let go of his body.”

It felt like the floor had dropped out from under Megatron’s pedes, his fuel tanks churning with nausea. Starscream was trying to die. The possibility of life without the vibrant seeker at his side yawned before him like a vast, bottomless chasm. Megatron was suddenly terrified.

No. No, he could _not_ let that happen. There _had_ to be a way to convince Starscream that life was still worth living. A small part of him warned that it was a selfish thing for him to think, that Starscream had suffered irreparable damage, but he ruthlessly silenced it. He loved the other mech too much to just give up and let him offline.

But even if there was a way to reignite his desire to function, his lovemate was completely unaware of the outside world, trapped of his own volition in the deepest parts of his processor. There was no way to communicate with him on even a basic level.

Or _was_ there?

“Hook,” he said, his voice quiet and deadly calm. “I need to speak with Starscream. Have the equipment needed for a cortical psychic patch brought to this room.”

“Commander Megatron!” Hook squawked, clearly aghast. “You can’t be serious! You want to go _inside_ his processor?! I can’t even _begin_ to list everything that could go wrong!”

“I will not be swayed, Hook,” Megatron said, shaking his helm. “Do as I ask. Please. Don’t make me make it an order.”

“But only Shockwave knows the procedure well enough to—”

“Then tell Shockwave to get his aft over here!” Megatron roared, clearly frustrated. “ _Go_ , Hook! I will _not_ tell you again!”

Hook stammered an apology and ran out of the room, already comming Shockwave. Megatron’s temper was not easily roused; it was a dire situation indeed if he resorted to shouting demands.

Megatron cycled a sigh, turning back to Starscream. He stroked the peaceful-looking faceplates affectionately, silently praying that he still had time to save his beloved.

“Hang on just a little while longer, lovemate,” he whispered. “I’ll be with you soon.”

* * *

“I trust you are comfortable, Commander Megatron?”

“That is unimportant, Shockwave,” Megatron told the chief scientist, “but I am, thank you.” He was lying on a portable berth that had been brought in with the cortical psychic patch equipment, giving him a place to lie during the procedure. Shockwave had just finished attaching one end of the main conduit that would run between his helm and Starscream’s.

“We’ll be able to see everything Megatron sees on this screen?” came a voice from Megatron’s other side, and he looked over to see Knock Out scrutinizing a currently blank monitor mounted on the main console Shockwave had brought with him. Hook was nearby, watching Starscream’s and Megatron’s vital signs scroll by on another monitor.

“That is correct,” Shockwave confirmed, nodding. He then noticed Megatron’s uncomfortable expression. “That is, unless the commander wants his interactions with Lieutenant Starscream to remain private?”

“I do,” Megatron said, visibly relieved. “Thank you, Shockwave.” He didn’t know what he would encounter within Starscream’s processor, but he knew that having everyone in the room watching would be a major intrusion on the seeker’s privacy.

“Do you need us to go over any part of the procedure again?” Shockwave asked, securing the other end of the conduit to the back of Starscream’s helm.

“No,” Megatron declined, shaking his helm. “I am ready to proceed.”

“Knock Out and I will be here in case anything goes wrong with either one of you,” Hook assured him from his station at the medical monitors.

“I have full confidence in your abilities, you two,” Megatron said, giving them a smile.

“All right, everything is in place,” Shockwave said, having satisfied himself that everything was connected and functioning properly. “Brace yourself, Commander.”

He entered a command into the main console, and Megatron was suddenly catapulted into motion.

Or rather, it _felt_ like he was. He somehow recognized that his consciousness had left his body, and that the “movement” he felt was his traveling down the conduit connecting his and Starscream’s helms, and with each nanoklick he moved closer to his lovemate’s processor space.

Almost as soon as he realized what was happening, it was over. He was ejected from the “tunnel” he had been traveling through with enough force to make him stumble, almost falling to his knees. He managed to keep his balance, however, and straightened up so he could look around.

All he saw was dark.

Megatron reset his optics, suddenly unsure. He turned around in a full circle, but no matter which way he faced, he was met with the same nothingness. He couldn’t tell how big or small the space around him was, and though there was light coming down from somewhere above him, when he looked up he couldn’t see any obvious source for the illumination.

“Starscream?” he called, unable to keep a nervous tremor out of his voice. There was no echo, and he felt a twinge of claustrophobia.

“Megatron…?” Starscream’s voice replied unexpectedly. Though it was quiet, it hit Megatron’s audials like a thunderclap in the utter silence, and the Decepticon commander jumped in surprise. Starscream’s voice did echo, and was apparently coming from nowhere. Megatron spun in a circle again, expecting to see his lovemate there with him, but found that he was still alone.

For perhaps the first time in his existence, he had no idea what to say.

“How are you here?” Starscream asked. “Am I dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, Starscream,” Megatron said, finding his voice again. “Where are you? Let me see you, lovemate.”

“I want to,” the seeker admitted, his voice wavering. “I want to touch you, hold you…but you should not be here.”

“Starscream—”

“You need to go, Megatron. I’m afraid of what will happen to you if you stay.” Starscream sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

“I’m not leaving, Starscream,” Megatron said grimly, determined to see this through. “I don’t care what happens to me. I just need to see you.” Getting Starscream to reveal himself was absolutely essential. He knew he couldn’t do anything else until he could see his lover standing before him.

Starscream didn’t respond, but Megatron somehow knew that he was still present, his undivided attention focused on the older mech.

“Please, love,” Megatron continued. “These past few cycles have been unbearable. Just let me see you. I’m _begging_ you, Star…you’re all that matters to me. I’m not leaving without you. Please.”

Another pause, and then Megatron heard a staticky sob, and Starscream was suddenly there in front of him. The seeker was facing him, sitting on the ground, his arms crossed over his bent knees. His helm hung down, his faceplates buried in his arms, wings low against his backplates. He was visibly shivering, wings rattling against his body.

Megatron felt his ember clench in sympathy. His lovemate was the very picture of sorrow, his grief painful to behold. A profound need to help him and give him comfort gripped Megatron’s ember, and he quickly closed the distance between them, falling to his knees beside Starscream’s curled frame. He reached out and placed a servo on his shoulder, saying his designation softly.

Starscream didn’t respond, though he did shift slightly, as if Megatron’s touch stirred something within him.

Encouraged by the reaction, Megatron very gently slipped his digits beneath Starscream’s chin, coaxing the seeker to look up at him. Starscream initially resisted, then slowly raised his helm. Megatron’s ember thrilled in anticipation. After cycles of nothing, he longed to see his lover’s softly glowing optics…

Their gazes met, and Megatron was jerked forward.

* * *

_Fire. They were surrounded by a sea of fire._

_Starscream careened through the inferno that was once the beautiful city of Vos. Panic clawed at his ember, his engines whining in protest as he pushed them beyond their limits. He vaguely remembered an explosion that knocked him off his pedes, he and his trine visiting the Vosnian Central Data Archives during a governmental recess, the three of them hoping to take their processors off the debates about what to do with the Autobots lurking on the city’s outskirts. There had been a deafening boom, a shriek from a youngling femme, and then blackness._

_When he came to, Thundercracker shaking him and frantically yelling his designation, it had been to a nightmare of fire and death. His beloved city was going up in flames, the screams of the wounded and dying filling his audials._

_Starscream could not organize his thoughts. He flew almost blindly, screaming with both his vocalizer and over public and private comm frequencies, desperate to find his creators, his siblings, his friends,_ anyone _who had survived. No one was answering. It seemed there was only Skywarp and Thundercracker flying behind him. Everyone else was gone._

_“Starscream!”_ _Thundercracker called over the trine’s private comm frequency. “Are you mad?! You’ll kill yourself flying like that!” He and Skywarp, though extremely accomplished flyers in their own right, were hard-pressed to keep up with Starscream, the fastest and most highly-skilled flyer currently functioning._

_A familiar_ POP _resounded in Starscream’s audials, but before he realized what he was hearing, there was a second_ POP _, and suddenly Skywarp was on top of him. His teleporting trinemate was in his bipedal form, straddling Starscream’s cockpit, his servos gripping the leading edges of Starscream’s wings._

_Thrown off balance by the added weight, Starscream banked sharply left, and then began to drop, transforming as he fell at a steep angle toward the ground. Skywarp let go of him once he was fully in his transformation sequence, spreading his own wings to slow his decent. They landed within a klick of each other, plowing awkwardly into the broken, pockmarked floor of a collapsed building. A dozen aches popped up across Starscream’s frame, his body protesting the inelegant, violent landing._

_Thundercracker transformed and dropped to the ground nearby, much more gracefully. He crouched on a pile of fallen masonry from the building, or maybe it was chunks of broken metal. It was hard to determine in the erratically flickering light of the surrounding inferno._

_“I’m sorry, Scream,” Skywarp apologized, bending over his fallen trine-leader, “but you were going to fly right into a building if you kept on the way you were.”_

_Starscream pushed himself up into a sitting position with a groan, clutching at his helm. The sudden shock of being forced to more or less crash had thrown a damper over his chaotic emotions. For now, they had been reduced to a dull roiling in his ember, his processor now focused on regaining his bearings._

_“Did I hurt you?” Skywarp asked, laying one servo on Starscream’s shoulder, watching him with concern._

_“Not really,” Starscream mumbled, barely audible over the roar of the flames._

_An enraged snarl suddenly reached his audials, followed by a panicked screech from Thundercracker._

_Starscream’s helm shot up, abruptly alert, alarm and fear blooming in his ember before his processor had time to realize what was going on. The cry of a trinemate elicited some of a seeker’s most deeply-rooted reflexes, and if Starscream hadn’t still been reeling from his impromptu landing, he would have sprung to his pedes. His ember was whirling in its chamber, vibrating so strongly he could feel it in his dentals._

_When his processor caught up with his ember and realized what his optics were seeing, it was like the entire world had stopped._

_The pile of scrap Thundercracker had perched on was not a pile of scrap at all, but a mech. He was severely damaged, bleeding heavily from a nasty abdominal wound, but by the looks of it he still had a fair amount of fight left in him. If the way he held Thundercracker by the neck wasn’t enough to determine his allegiance, the blazing red optics that stared wildly from his ravaged face certainly were._

_An Autobot._

_“THUNDERCRACKER!!!”_ _Starscream and Skywarp shrieked almost in unison. The Autobot they had stumbled upon must be a casualty in the assault on Vos, left to die by his less than sympathetic comrades. Optimus Prime had no use for those weak enough to fall to lesser foes, so there would have been no effort to save those unable to walk away from the battlefield on their own pedes. Now, the wounded and only half-sensible mech had a hold of their trinemate, murder in his optics._

_With a snarl, the huge Autobot heaved himself up, slamming Thundercracker to the ground on his back. The seeker was helpless to fight back. The Autobot was easily three times his bulk, and had him pinned._

_Skywarp lunged forward, hurling a Vosnian curse at the Autobot, his servos transforming into blasters in preparation for battle…or at least assassination. It seemed the teleporter was not in the mood for a fight, not with Thundercracker’s life hanging in the balance. All he had on his processor was the death of this Autobot, this impudent wretch who dared to threaten his dear trinemate…_

_As close as they were, he never made it._

_The Autobot seemed delirious, but he still had the sense to go straight for Thundercracker’s ember. He drove his servo into the seeker’s chestplates, sharp digits piercing metal and tearing the protective plating away. Thundercracker cried out in pain and alarm, but then was abruptly silenced. The Autobot had reached inside his chest cavity, crushing the ember chamber in his massive servo._

_Thundercracker jerked once, then stilled, optics fading to black as his chassis went limp, a look of shock and dismay frozen on his faceplates._

_An icy cold exploded in Starscream’s ember, and he shrieked, clutching at his chest. He instinctively curled in on himself, agony and bewilderment and outright terror warring for dominance. This was far deeper than physical pain. Thundercracker’s presence had vanished, torn violently away. Starscream swore he could feel his ember being pulled apart within its chamber, the trinebond shredding with excruciating finality._

_Thundercracker was dead, murdered. Starscream realized he was sobbing like a scared emberling._

_Another scream, this one from Skywarp, reached his audials, and he jerked his helm up again. Skywarp was attacking the Autobot, both guns blazing, his face a mask of pure rage and anguish. The Autobot had staggered to his pedes, ignoring his first victim’s corpse, and now went for Skywarp, his servo transforming into a wicked-looking blade._

_“SKYWARP!”_ _Starscream bellowed through his pain and tears, “Stop!_ Retreat!!! _”_

_The Autobot struck, swinging his blade in a wide diagonal arc. Skywarp, blinded by his grief and fury, didn’t move out of the way in time. The weapon caught him across his upper abdominal and lower chest plating, knocking him back with the overwhelming force of the blow. He was flung aside as if he weighed nothing, energon spraying from the wound in a sickening, glowing fountain._

_Skywarp landed in an awkward heap, and was still._

_Starscream cried his trinemate’s designation again, scrambling to his pedes and rushing to his fallen comrade. He wasn’t dead, not yet. Starscream could still save him, he could—_

_Something slammed into him, knocking him away from Skywarp with tremendous force. He hit the ground hard after a klick or two of weightlessness, skidding several dozen feet before he finally came to a stop. He was dazed, disoriented, and on the brink of panicking._

_The Autobot had struck out again, but this time with his non-bladed servo, smashing his fist into the seeker and sending the smaller mech flying. Starscream could do little but lie there, stunned, for several klicks, listening to the Autobot’s ominous pedefalls coming closer._

_He finally regained his ability to move as the Autobot’s massive shadow fell over him. He rolled heavily from his side to his back, and found himself staring his death in the face._

_The Autobot’s face was more damaged than Starscream originally thought. Though the optics still blazed bright, the rest of it was a shambles. His mandible was twisted out of alignment, unable to close properly, oral lubricant and energon dripping from the corners of his mouth._

_An intense, visceral hatred gripped the seeker’s ember. This stupid, ungainly_ brute _had robbed him of his trinemates, and had participated in the destruction of his beloved Vos. As he stared into those soulless red optics, all his devastation, fear, anger, and hurt coalesced into a terrible, violent rage, which quickly swelled within him until he knew no other emotion._

_The Autobot raised the servo he had struck Starscream with, the appendage transforming into a large blaster cannon, and aimed the weapon right at Starscream’s faceplates._

_Unfortunately for him, the seeker was faster._

_Starscream raised both his servos toward the Autobot, his arm-mounted missiles primed and ready to fire. And fire he did, not even bothering to aim, launching both projectiles into his enemy’s chestplates at once._

_The resulting explosion pushed him further along the rough ground, and he briefly lost his orientation again, his audials ringing from the deafening blast._

_Almost a breem later, he was able to push himself up into a sitting position, his entire frame shaking with the excess charge of his anger. He felt weak, completely drained, but he wasn’t finished yet. He couldn’t be finished yet. He rose to his pedes, wobbling dangerously, and stumbled towards the fallen Autobot. The large mech was twitching, frayed wires sparking, damaged fuel lines spurting energon, which glowed an eerie blue in the flickering orange light of the flames that surrounded them. He was still alive._

_Starscream would just have to fix that._

_The Autobot suddenly laughed, a horrible, wet, grating sound. And then he spoke, his words almost incomprehensible, distorted by a vocalizer clogged with energon and his misaligned mandible. Still, Starscream managed to understand him._

_“Gonna send me to the Pit, huh? I’ll be sure to say hi to your pretty, prissy little wingmates when I get there.”_

_Something snapped in Starscream. How dare he? How_ dare _he speak so flippantly about his trinemates? His beautiful, wonderful,_ murdered _trinemates…_

_Forgetting his exhaustion, he leaped upon the Autobot’s much larger chassis, his servos transforming into twin plasma blasters, glowing hotly with his desire to kill. He unloaded several—or perhaps several dozen—shots into the Autobot’s ruined chest, easily breaking through to the ember, obliterating it in klicks. As he fired, Starscream shrieked obscenities, cursing the Autobot and all his wretched brethren to the very lowest reaches of the Pit._

_When he finally realized that he was shooting and hurling abuse at a corpse, he stopped, trembling violently with the force of his emotions. The blinding rage dissipated, leaving him feeling hollow. The hellish heat from the burning city seemed to press in, crushing him, his optics stinging as he began crying again._

_He suddenly remembered Skywarp, and with a strangled shout he leaped from the Autobot’s chassis, lunging for his wounded trinemate, desperation blooming in his ember._

_“Skywarp,” he managed to choke out as he gathered the injured seeker into his arms, cradling him like an emberling. “Skywarp! This…this can’t be happening! No! No, no, no, this just cannot_ be _!” His voice was hoarse, vocalizer overtaxed and full of static. He was rocking back and forth, Skywarp held tightly in his arms, tears streaming down his face and onto his trinemate’s._

_“Starscream…” Skywarp managed to whisper, already critically low on energon. The blow he had taken had, among other damage, breached his fuel tank, and he was quickly bleeding out._

_Starscream realized just how much energon was covering Skywarp and soaking into the ground below them, and nearly purged his own tank._

_“It’s not too late, Warp,” Starscream said, his voice shaking like the rest of him. “I can still save you. There’s still time. I’ll get you to safety—”_

_A slender digit touched his lip-plates, silencing him. “Don’t, Starscream,” he said thinly, almost inaudible above the flames. “This is the end for me. We both know it.”_

_“Skywarp…”_

_“You have to get yourself out of here. Our people need you. You’re the only one left who can lead them.”_

_“I can’t do it without you, Warp…!”_

_“Starscream,” Skywarp cut him off. “Hurricane is dead. So are your siblings. You are winglord now. Our people need direction. Only you can give it to them. You’re respected, loved…if you die, so will their hope.”_

_Starscream only sobbed. He didn’t care about that. All he could see was the tearing apart of his trine, the murder of the two most important mechs in his life. Seekers who lost both trine members were in grave danger of death, insanity, or both. Their embers and processors just couldn’t deal the trauma. Thundercracker and Skywarp had not only been stolen from him, but their deaths were violent and almost simultaneous. Few seekers survived such a horror._

_“You will be a great leader,” Skywarp continued, managing a weak smile. “Your carrier allied us to the Decepticons. Follow in her pedefalls…help them bring down the Autobots. Avenge our people, our city…and then you will lead the seekers back to greatness. I know you will. Our leader, our prince…our savior…” He trailed off, coughing, his intakes clogging with energon._

_“Skywarp, don’t…don’t go…!” Starscream begged, feeling his bond with Skywarp beginning to strain. The other seeker was way past the point of no return. His death was looming closer with every klick._

I love you, Screamer _, Skywarp said over their private comm frequency, too weak to speak aloud anymore. He smiled wanly as he used Starscream’s younglinghood nickname. It normally annoyed Starscream to be called that anymore, but if Skywarp or Thundercracker used it, it only made him smile._ Thundercracker and I…we both love you. And…and Megatron…he needs you. You and he…destroy the Autobots, free Cybertron…save our people, flyer and grounder alike…I know you can… _He went quiet again, his optics beginning to dim._

_There was pain again. Starscream’s ember, still aching from Thundercracker’s sudden death, convulsed anew, the other half of the trinebond severing. Instead of a sudden, ruthless, cold agony, this was like the inferno that blazed around him, inexorable, fiery pain. It was almost worse this time, the bond breaking like glass that slowly cracked and finally fell to pieces, rather than the sharp snap of Thundercracker’s quick death._

Till all are one… _And then Skywarp cycled his last breath, his optics going completely dark._

_He was gone._

_While he had screamed upon his bond with Thundercracker breaking, this time Starscream merely whimpered, the pain too great to allow him to cry out. His shaking got worse, a sense of hopelessness and isolation descending upon him. He was alone now. His people, his family unit, his trine, even his_ city _was gone, stolen from him by the warmongering Autobots. He just couldn’t fathom going on now, his wounded ember crying out for death._

Megatron…he needs you.

_Skywarp’s words echoed in his processor. He loved the Decepticon commander dearly, had even begun to contemplate bonding with the ex-gladiator. But now he couldn’t bring himself to care. Everything else he loved was gone, ripped away from him in one single, horrible joor. Not even Megatron’s love could soothe the indescribable pain. Nothing could._

_Dazed, he looked up, seeing Thundercracker’s empty chassis only a short distance away. His colors had faded completely, his frame now the dull gray of death. The sight was hideous to Starscream. He looked back down to Skywarp, seeing him beginning to gray already._

_A keening sound reached his audials, and a few klicks later he realized it was coming from his own vocalizer. He clutched at Skywarp, still rocking back and forth. His optics squeezed shut, the keening getting louder and louder with every klick until he was screaming outright. He threw his helm back, shrieking his agony to the heavens._

_He knew no one would hear. He was well and truly alone._

* * *

Megatron came back to himself as suddenly as he had left. He let go of Starscream, falling backwards clumsily. Tears were flowing freely from his optics, leaving hot, wet trails on his cheekplates. He was shaking, his dentals rattling, feeling a coldness that he knew was not external.

He had seen Starscream’s memories, the optic contact between himself and the seeker catapulting him into the worst cycle of Starscream’s functioning. He saw everything that happened through Starscream’s optics, felt everything he had felt with the same intensity and detail. He had even temporarily forgotten that he was in fact _not_ Starscream, but a visitor in Starscream’s processor.

The seeker was sobbing brokenly nearby, and Megatron shook himself, trying to dispel the lingering feelings. He sat up, and saw Starscream huddled on the ground where he had been sitting, clutching at his helm with both servos. He was shaking so badly his wings rattled audibly, babbling unintelligibly in the seeker dialect. It seemed that Starscream had seen the same memories Megatron had, forced to relive that awful cycle with no ability to stop it.

Intense guilt seized Megatron’s ember, and he moved to his lovemate’s side. He knelt and gathered the disconsolate mech into his arms, holding him like a carrier soothing an emberling after a fright, gently stroking the seeker’s back and wings, desperate to comfort him. _He_ had triggered the flashback, had caused Starscream to relive the horror, and for that he didn’t think he could ever forgive himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, speaking in Starscream’s language. He was far from fluent in the intricate seeker cant, but could usually hold his own in a basic conversation. Now, he felt it was necessary to convey the sincerity of his remorse. “I didn’t mean to make you see…I’m so sorry, lovemate. Forgive me…”

“G-go,” Starscream stammered through his tears, shaking his helm. “You don’t belong here. Please…go.” He pushed against Megatron’s chest, trying to squirm free of the larger mech’s hold. “Leave me!”

“I can’t,” Megatron said, switching back to the standard dialect. “If I leave you here, Starscream, you’ll die. Your ember has already begun to fail. You _have_ to come back with me.”

“Just let me offline,” Starscream countered, shaking his helm again. “I can’t function with this pain. There’s just no way. It’ll destroy me if I try. I just can’t _do_ it!” His voice dropped into a low whisper, almost inaudible. “ _I want to die!_ ”

Megatron felt panic stirring in his ember, but then he remembered something. Skywarp had urged Starscream to restore the seekers to their former glory. His trine-leader was the only one left of the ruling family unit, and the teleporter knew that losing Starscream too would be an immeasurable blow to the already traumatized survivors. The seekers were a tightly-knit society, and they had been through enough devastation in the last half-groon to last them all several lifetimes. Starscream was perhaps their only hope to stay together as a people; without him, the survivors would scatter aimlessly, nothing holding them together outside of trines and family units. They would eventually be absorbed into the general population of Cybertron, nothing distinguishing them from any other race of flyers out there…provided the Autobots didn’t get their way and burn society to the ground, that is. Then there would be _nothing_ left as the Prime rebuilt Cybertron as he saw fit, establishing his new world order.

“Starscream,” he began, thwarting his lover’s attempts to escape his embrace. He knew what he was about to say may hurt Starscream deeply, but he also knew there was no other way to get through to him. “Remember what Skywarp said? Your people need you. They need you to steer them through this tragedy. You’re their only hope to rebuild, the only one who can help them rise from the ashes even greater before. Prime tried to extinguish the seekers…make him regret ever laying an optic on one of you!” He paused, continuing to stroke Starscream’s wings, feeling the delicate appendages flutter beneath his servos. What he said next, he knew would be like stabbing Starscream directly in the ember, but he forged ahead anyway, his voice low. “Imagine Skywarp and Thundercracker’s disappointment…what would they think if you reunited with them in the Vault of Embers, and they found out you had just given up?”

Starscream sobbed once, jerking as if struck. His shaking had died down to a slight tremor, but now started up again. Megatron somehow knew that he had gotten through to the seeker prince, that Starscream’s fear of disappointing his trinemates was stronger than his fear of living without them.

Still, he continued speaking. There was something else he had to say.

“Skywarp was right,” he began slowly, tightening his grip on the smaller mech. “About me, that is. I love you Starscream, I _need_ you. You are _everything_ to me. I just can’t imagine functioning without you at my side. I know it’s selfish of me to think of my own pain when yours is so much greater, but I can’t help it. I don’t _want_ you to die!”

Starscream didn’t respond, except to turn one tearful optic up toward Megatron’s face. In that optic, Megatron saw a myriad of emotions, and buried deep beneath everything, almost unnoticeable, he saw the faintest glimmer of hope begin to dawn. It gave him the courage to proceed.

“Starscream, I…I wanted to ask you this before, but then everything happened. I love you, more than I’ve ever loved anyone else before. I want to share the rest of my life with you. You and only you.” He cycled a deep breath, then got to the point. “I want to bond with you, Starscream. Let me help you bear this burden. Unload some of your pain onto me. You don’t have to do this alone. I am here for you. Please, let me in.”

For a moment, Starscream didn’t respond, but then he pushed himself up, both optics now looking into Megatron’s. He looked so young, so lost, so _helpless_ that Megatron felt tears sting his optics again.

“You really mean that?” Starscream asked, his voice thin and wavering.

“Every word,” Megatron insisted, taking Starscream’s servo in his own. “I want to be your bondmate. I’ve wanted it since I first discovered I love you.” He squeezed the seeker’s servo affectionately. “Please, tell me you want the same.”

Starscream shuttered his optics, his helm lowering. After a moment, he clutched at Megatron’s servo with both of his own, nodding rapidly.

“I do want that,” he whispered, voice bursting with emotion. “I do. I love you, Megatron. I want to be one with you.” He leaned forward, his free arm wrapping around Megatron’s neck and helm, holding him like his life depended upon it. “I will bond with you, my love.”

As soon as those words left Starscream’s vocalizer, Megatron felt as if he were moving again. He was back in the tunnel of the patch conduit, Starscream disappearing from his arms, moving backward this time instead of forward. In less than a klick, he would be back in his own body.

Megatron returned to consciousness with a gasp, optics flying wide. He realized he was back on the medical berth, Shockwave and Hook standing to either side of him, both watching him closely.

“Ah!” Shockwave exclaimed when he saw Megatron’s optics open. “Commander, you’re back! Did you manage to retrieve Lieutenant—”

“Starscream!” Knock Out’s voice cried, making the three of them look over. Hook’s senior assistant had been watching the seeker while Shockwave and Hook observed Megatron. Now he stepped back from the berth, surprised to find Starscream suddenly awake and moving.

Starscream had sat up, groggy and disoriented. He had spent so long unconscious that returning to wakefulness was a difficult experience. He moved stiffly, his joints protesting the movement after cycles of lying motionless and unused. He hiccupped, his chassis shuddering, and Megatron saw the telltale glitter of tears in his bright blue optics.

“I did,” Megaton said, answering Shockwave’s unfinished question. “He’s come back to us.”

* * *

Word of Starscream’s awakening spread throughout the refugee camps in a matter of joors. The seekers flocked to Kaon’s main medical facility, where their new winglord was being cared for. Before the cycle was out, a throng had gathered out front. Though they were remaining peaceful, it was easy to see that they were anxious for a glimpse of the Vosnian prince, for proof that his recovery was not just a rumor. Cries of his designation could be heard, as well as pleading to both Primus and Starscream for their leader to emerge.

As soon as Starscream felt strong enough to stand on his own two pedes, he headed for the window. He could see the gathering below, could hear their cries, and his ember went out to them. They were homeless, their city burned to the ground, family units torn apart, and they looked to him for guidance. Deep love for his people swelled in his ember, right alongside trepidation that he wouldn’t be up to the task. He only had to look at Megatron to be reassured, however. He wasn’t in this alone. His future bondmate had promised to help him in any way that he could.

He opened the window and hopped up into it, perching on the outer sill. Only a klick or two passed before he was spotted, a happy cry alerting others to his presence, and soon they were all making noise, cheering and thanking Primus for his appearance. Finally, they knew for sure that their winglord was alive. It was the first sign of real hope the seekers had received since their home was destroyed. Many tears, of both joy and sorrow, were shed among the gathered crowd.

Again, Starscream felt a surge of intimidation as he looked upon what he realized was the majority of the seekers still functioning. His creators had done everything they could to prepare him for leadership, but no one could have predicted that it would be under such circumstances. Starscream was now lord of a shattered people, stripped of everything and desperate for a savior, reduced to a fraction of their former numbers. Recalling his history lessons, he could think of no other winglord who had faced such daunting odds upon their ascension.

Cycling a deep breath, he began to speak. He didn’t feel he had the strength to raise his voice enough to be heard by everyone, so he spoke through the public comm channel, every seeker hearing him as if he were standing right next to them.

 _My people_ , he began, his optics scanning the crowd. They all stilled immediately, every optic fixed on him. _My people, I am grateful for your love, your support…and I am sorry I left you._ He paused for a moment. _I have no speech to make, no finely-worded message of hope to impart. I am no orator, but I promise you, we will rise from this tragedy. They tried to destroy us, but we will not let them. We survived every hardship thrown our way, built our great city, became a force to be reckoned with, and we will do so again. I will see it done. If I have to give my very ember to ensure my people’s recovery, I will. If I can promise you nothing else, I promise you this._

An excited murmur spread throughout the crowd. Starscream may have doubted his own eloquence, but his words were invoking powerful emotions all the same.

 _My carrier, Hurricane, allied the seekers with the Decepticon cause_ , he continued. _I will honor her efforts. I pledge my service, and the service of all who are willing, to aid in realizing their goal of ridding Cybertron of the Autobot scourge. No other people should experience this tragedy. I will permit no more genocide in the name of Optimus Prime’s selfish desires. Few though we are now, we will make him regret ever turning his optics upon Vos. He will not escape punishment for this crime, for_ any _of his crimes against Cybertron._

He refrained from announcing his intentions to bond with Megatron. Though it was common knowledge among the seekers that their prince consorted with the Decepticon commander, announcing their intention to bond embers at the same time he pledged the seekers to Megatron’s cause might be seen as purely a political move. He and Megatron were mating for love, and only for love. There would be a proper time to make public their upcoming bonding. This was not that time.

_I will force no one to give their service if they do not wish it. Everyone has lost so much. If it is your desire to remove yourself from the conflict, if you want to live your life peacefully, I will begrudge you nothing. I hold no mech or femme to serve against their will. I swear on my life. I will accept only those fully willing to serve in this war. No one else._

A clamor rose up from the crowd. Though he was giving them all ample opportunity to bow out and seek as peaceful an existence as possible, it seemed that every one of them was professing their desire to serve him and his new cause, to give their efforts, perhaps their very lives, to fight for Cybertron’s future.

Starscream’s ember swelled with both pride and humility. Pride, as his people, broken and battered as they were, seemed just as spirited and passionate as before Vos was destroyed, perhaps even more so; humility, as felt greatly humbled in the face of his people’s devotion to him, their need and enthusiasm to rout the Autobots and restore Cybertron—and Vos—to her former glory.

 _I take my leave now_ , he said. Though it wasn’t visible to those on the ground, he had begun to shiver. _I am not fully recovered yet. I trust you all understand._ He began to slip back through the window and into his room. As he set one of his pedes back on the floor, he felt two strong servos encircle his slim waist, steadying him. He didn’t have to look to know it was Megatron helping him. The window closed, muffling their noise of the crowd below.

“That was a good speech for one made up on the fly,” his lovemate commented, and he could hear the smile in Megatron’s voice. “You gave them hope. That’s all that really matters right now.”

Starscream only nodded, then closed his optics and purred. Megatron was lightly stroking a wing, his servo trailing along the lower edge almost absently.

“I love you,” he said quietly, leaning back against his lovemate’s broad chest.

“I love you too, Star,” his future bondmate whispered into his audial. “Now and forever.” Though he said this in all seriousness, he broke into a quiet laugh when he heard a distinct rumbling coming from Starscream’s fuel tank. “You must be hungry. Wait here, I’ll get you some energon.” He pulled away from Starscream, giving his wing one final caress before heading for the door.

“Just low-grade, please,” Starscream called after him. “I don’t know if I can handle mid-grade yet.”

Megatron made a noise of assent, and then he was gone.

Starscream watched him go, then climbed back onto his berth and laid down, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for his lovemate to return.

 _Emberling steps_ , he told himself. _One thing at a time, Screamer._ _That’s all you can do._

**End**

**Author's Note:**

> This story gave me so much trouble, and took so long to write. I cannot convey in words how relieved I am to finally be finished with it.
> 
> I realize that in Shattered Glass, Optimus Prime had Crystal City razed when Starscream refused to join him, but I decided to have Vos be the city destroyed in this story. I haven’t read the SG comic, and don’t know if Crystal City is Starscream’s native city in that canon, or simply the city he resides in. So, as this story is an AU to the AU, I decided for the setting to be the city most associated with Starscream across the metaseries. I hope that explains my choice of Vos for this fic.
> 
> Please leave a review. I worked really hard to make this story as perfect as I could, and I would love to hear what you guys think of it. If you don’t like it, though, be nice.
> 
> Seeya, tschüß, salut, ciao, ja mata ne, adiós, hei hei, bàibài, tchau tchau, baj-báj, or however else you say it. (If you can name all the languages I just said “bye-bye” in, you get a gold star.)


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